


With Sisters Like These

by misura



Category: due South
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray doesn't need enemies, but he might need a boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Sisters Like These

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted October 2008
> 
> prompt: _Ray Vecchio/Benton Fraser - journal - woke up gay_

"I can't believe I'm talking to you about this," Ray said.

"Yeah, and I can't believe I'm actually listening to you."

"I mean, you've been trying to get into this guy's pants for what? A year?" Ray glowered at a lamp, which spontaneously fell over. He told himself it was a freak coincidence.

"A year, two months and ten days." Francesca sighed. "And from the very first moment I set eyes on him, I knew he was the one."

Just in case, Ray glowered at her chair. Nothing happened.

"Did you hear a single word I just said?"

"Yeah, yeah." Francesca made a shushing gesture. "You just realized you've got the hots for Fraser. Like, who doesn't? Feel lucky he's your partner."

"I can't be having the hots for Fraser," Ray said. "He's a ... a ... "

"Mountie?"

Ray shook his head, scowling.

"Canadian? Hey, do you think they've got different weddings in Canada?"

"He's a guy!" Ray burst out. "He's a guy and I'm a guy and there's no way this is going to work!"

Francesca stared at him. "You're gay? I didn't know you were gay. Why'd you never tell me you were gay? God, Ray, that's just so typical. You never tell me anything."

"Look, I'm telling you now, okay?" Ray said. "And it's not like they send you a memo or something. More like, I woke up one day and - "

"Does Mom know you're gay?"

"Yes." It wasn't a complete lie, Ray assured himself; he'd call her as soon as he'd gotten Francesca off his back, and break it to her gently. Not like Francesca'd have done if he'd said 'no'. He'd play it slick and cool, like 'Hey, Mom, nice day, huh? So, listen, remember Nephew Matteo? Haven't talked to him for years, right, avoided him like he's got the plague 'cause he's living with this blonde surfer dude. Well, you might want to sort of stop talking to me and pretend you don't know me starting right now, because guess what? Yeah, yeah, I was surprised, too. Bye. I'll talk to you later, or uh not, I guess. Nice knowing you.'

Francesca mulled this over for a bit.

"Did Dad know?"

This, Ray knew, was why Francesca scared him sometimes. Because yes, most of the time she seemed kind of dumb and like she wouldn't notice a guy's total lack of interest if he showed it to her every time she got into his face, day after day, but then, just when you were ready to completely dismiss her as an airhead, she'd say something that was like a punch in the stomach.

"Don't think so," he said. That'd be kind of stupid, wouldn't it? His dad, beating him for something Ray'd only found out about himself a few days ago. Like, couldn't the sick bastard at least have mentioned it?

If he ever had kids, Ray promised himself, and he thought they might be gay, he'd tell them. And, you know, not beat them for it or anything - not that Fraser'd let him, anyway, and speaking of sick bastards, having the idea of Fraser as some sort of SuperMom stuck in his head had to qualify Ray for the title as well, or at least the first part of it.

"All right," Francesca said. "I'll help you."

"I don't need your help," said Ray, although his heart wasn't really in it.

"You want my help or not?"

"Not!"

"Well, too bad, because you're getting it," Francesca said. "Now, I've got this plan - it's perfect. All we need is your secret diary. We leave it on your desk, or someplace else Fraser's going to find it, so he picks it up and reads all about your feelings and that's it."

The brother-and-sister-bonding moment was clearly over, Ray decided. "Yeah, great plan, Frannie, except that I haven't got a secret diary." And if he'd had one, Francesca'd be the last person on Earth he'd tell about it.

"Oh." Francesca looked daunted for all of two seconds before her expression brightened. "Well, don't worry, I've got just the thing. Leave it to me!"

Ray wondered if it wouldn't be more painless to simply call Fraser and make a full confession.

 

When he saw Fraser heading his way the next day, an expression of concern on his face and a pink, frilly notebook in his hand, Ray knew he was in trouble. There was no way this was going to end well.

"Ray!" Fraser said, giving him the oddest look-over Ray'd ever seen him give anyone. "Could I ... talk to you for a moment? In private."

"Sure, Bennie." Ray closed his eyes. So. This was it. Wake up gay on a Tuesday, get rejected on a Thursday. Maybe he'd wake up straight again tomorrow - of course, by then, it'd be a little too late to save this friendship-sort-of thing he'd had going on with Fraser.

"Ray, I ... " They were in a closet, Ray realized. How friggin' ironic was that. "I'm sorry, but I can't think of another way to ask this and I do hope you won't take offense at this for, I assure you, none is intended, but ... are you a cross-dresser?"

"What?" Ray asked.

"You were presented to me as being male and so I must confess it never occured to me that you might not, in fact, be one but merely be _posing_ as one, which is, of course, a choice you have every right to make and I have no entitlement whatsoever to disapprove of, yet I confess that, for reasons that are wholly selfish and need not concern you, I should very much like to know if you are, in fact, a man or a woman."

"Give me that!" Ray snatched the notebook out of Fraser's unresisting grip, and opened it. The first thing he saw was Fraser's name, with hearts drawn around it and enough pink glittery stuff to make his eyes hurt. The second thing was the line 'This diary belongs to Ray Vecchio' with lots of white between his first and last name and obvious signs of tampering.

"Naturally, I didn't read all of it," Fraser was saying, "I merely wished to endeavor to determine to whom this belonged." And that, Ray noted absently, had to be the first time he'd ever caught Fraser in a lie, because come on, wasn't the name right there, on the first page? Even if it was a fake.

Ray's gaze darted over the first page, then he turned it and read the second, the third, the fourth. Slowly, he felt a blush creep up his face, because when people said you shouldn't read your sister's diary, they were actually right, Ray realized a little too late. Some things, a guy just didn't want to know about his sister, like when they involved elaborate fantasies about their best friends, even when a guy also happened to have a crush on said best friend. Especially then, actually.

"Frannie!" Ray burst out of the closet and there was stuff falling down, with people standing around clapping. Someone'd put up a banner that read: 'After Thirty Years Finally Out of the Closet - Congratulations, Ray'.

"Oh," Fraser said, brushing some confetti off his sleeves. "My."

"Always knew there was something a little strange about you, Ray," Dewey said, raising his glass.

"Different," Huey corrected him. "The politically correct word is 'different'."

"Please tell me this is just a really bad dream," Ray said.


End file.
